Interfering
by Jude Aaron
Summary: The Doctor is travelling alone again. Of course, that doesn't last long. He always was a sucker for children crying. This is my take on the idea of younger companions.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

"Don't interfere" really is quite a good rule. Nothing hurts quite so much as interfering. The Doctor stalks back towards the TARDIS. He's been feeling rather contemptuous lately. He's not really sure why, but it probably has something to do with River and Amy and Rory and_ interfering_. He sighs. It's always difficult going back to visit them. Of course, he loves them and wants what's best, but it's so difficult to let go once he's started with this interfering business. He forces himself to step back, though. He doesn't want to interfere them to death or deformity, which seems to happen too often for his taste.

So yes, he's stalking. His mood is only made worse by the fact that, in attempt to prevent interference, he parked the TARDIS almost three blocks away. He'd hoped that not landing in the backyard would at least give him time to think about what he had done. It had, but he would have preferred it to be before he knocked on the Ponds' door and not after he was pushed out by a laughing Amy, insisting she needed sleep and that he probably had a planet to save.

Suddenly he hears a sound that made him tense. Crying. Crying had always been his weakness. He glances to the right slowly. He tries not to, but there's crying. He just knows it's a child. Children crying. He can't just do _nothing_. There's already an older child wrapped around the crying one, and he slowly breathes a sigh of relief. The child already has help.

He finds that he's not as happy as he should be at this realization. He wants to be relieved at this. He doesn't _want_ to interfere. Of course not. But... he wanted... he wanted this child to need him. He's never met this child. He never would have noticed her but for the cry, but it wasn't for him. This child needs the older one wrapped tightly around her, protecting her from her demons.

But... he so _wants_ to be _needed_. It's painful to wake up one day and realize that no one _needs_ him anymore. He still needs Amy; he needs Rory; he needs River, but they don't seem to need him anymore. It _hurts_.

He turns forward again, trying to force himself to move forward again with this heavy weight on his shoulders. He's shouldered so many weights, but this one is different. Most weights are about things he _needs_ to do because people _need_ him. Now it's as if there's no weight, like he's a balloon that's been cut loose. He isn't needed any more. He has nothing to hold him down. To make him human. He's not human, but it's still nice to feel like one.

Just as he takes the first step away from the children (it hurts; it's like admitting that he's unneeded), he hears a shout, and the small cries immediately cease. He glances back, startled. Children don't just stop crying like that. The older child's hold has tightened around the younger one, and he's glaring to left, but there's fear behind the glare.

He's trying to protect the smaller child from the noise.

The Doctor tries not to turn. This doesn't concern him. He's not needed. It stings, but he needs to accept - oh screw it. He spins around. It's an angry man with a beer bottle in hand. He's shouting at the children, who seem to be trying to make themselves disappear. It's not that unusual to see parents yelling at the children. They often deserve it. This is different. They aren't guilty; they're just scared, even if the older one would obviously deny it. The man isn't chastising, he's tyrannical.

And suddenly, he feels needed again. He leans down in front of the children, still looking like they want to disappear. He's willing to help with that.

"Come with me"

The boy looks at him for a second before glancing down as his sister, for it can only be his sister. He glances back and forth a couple of times before looking back at the still shouting man. He looks at his sister once more before his head snaps back up and he nods vehemently, if nervously. The Doctor grins. He can't help it. He's _needed_ again.

He grabs the boy's hand, running with him back to the TARDIS as he drags his sister along. He flings the door open, and pulls them inside. He drops the hand quickly as he starts fiddling with knobs and levers. He propels them into space, letting them get the full effect of the TARDIS before spinning back around to look at them again.

"I'm the Doctor. This is the TARDIS. She's a _time machine_." He waggles his eyebrows for emphasis. He spreads his arms wide and does a twirl, "Welcome aboard!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who

He's got to admit. He's a little surprised by their reactions. People usually grow straight for amazement, and it really is his favorite part. Of course, he loves getting to know the new people and teaching them about the universe, but the best part is the amazement. It's we he keeps picking up these tiny humans. They're always so innocent and amazed. But not these two. The boy is holding his younger sister to his chest protectively, looking at him like he'll try to take her. That's new. He's never had this reaction before. A part of his revels in the newness. Newness and excitement, always good; great for getting his mind off the Ponds. Yes, those wonderful, amazing - stop. Boy and girl.

Despite the newness and the surprise it's sad to see them like this. It makes him feel like an outsider. Of course, he's always an outsider, never staying in one place long enough to belong, except - no. He mustn't think of them. Boy and girl. Yes. The merely descriptive titles are terribly inconvenient.

"So, who are you then?" He tries to mask his slight disappointment with their reactions with larger movements and more flitting around the console than is strictly necessary.

The boy seems to pause for a second, as if contemplating whether or not to tell the truth, before answering. "I'm Dustin, and this is my little sister, Gabby." He continues to eye the Doctor suspiciously, as any sane person would.

"How old are you then? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Dustin gives the Doctor a strange look. "We're on holiday. I'm sixteen, and Gabby is six." He doesn't seem to want to share any more, but the Doctor's silence ad constant movements make him nervous enough to continue. "We're not actually related, but we got put into the same foster home." He stops, unwilling to share any more personal information with the eccentric man standing before him.

"So, Dustin, Dusty? Can I call you Dusty?" He backtracks at the venomous look from the teen. "So that's a no to Dusty, then, hm? Pitty, such a great name. What about you Gabby? What do you think of Dusty? Such a great name, don't you think?" She buries her head in the boy's chest and doesn't say anything. "Does nobody share my appreciating for this wonderful name?" He pauses for a few seconds, not really expecting an answer from the two of them, but giving them a chance anyway. "So, what do you want to do first, hm? The past, the present, the future, the alien, the unknown, all at your fingertips! Where do you want to go first?"

Dustin answers after some prompting from Gabby. "Could we sleep first? Gabby needs a nap."

The Doctor visibly deflates, though he tries not to. Children need their sleep, after all. It's not as if they're not excited. He's simply forgotten what it's like to have children on board. Yes. That'll be it. "'Course. Always time for a good nap." Suddenly his countenance brightens as he makes his way towards the hall. "How do you feel about bunk beds " Dustin doesn't answer, but the Doctor takes his lack of facial venom as a good sign and informs them both on the redeeming qualities of these sorts of beds as they make their way down the hall. "They're quite excellent, bunk beds I mean, they only take up half the space of a normal bed. Well, they take up exactly the space of a normal bed, unless you count the vertical space, but why would you? You're not using that for anything anyway. They leave so much extra room for activities. Oh, I do love activities. You know, the last people I had on here" oh no, here he goes, talking about the Ponds, but he can't stop himself. They're all that's in his mind, really. "thought that bunk beds were silly. They couldn't even see their obvious merits. They preferred a huge bed that took up twice the floor space. I don't know how they ever expected to take part in any activities whatsoever.

"So, bunk beds it is then." He swung open a door, hoping to find the sought after bunk beds, but instead it was a huge bed, even bigger than the one in Amy and Rory's old room. Don'tthinkaboutit. "Oh, seems we've got the wrong room." He tries the next door and the one after that, but they all seem to contain the same immense bed and absolutely _no_ floor space. "Come on, old girl, bunk beds." He opens a final door and sighs. No dice. Or bunk beds. "Well, it seems you'll have to settle for playing _on_ the bed, though that can be quite fun too - "

"Doctor," He interrupts the man quietly. "We'd really like to sleep now, if that's okay."

He deflates "Of course," and gestures them into the room before heading back, muttering about how she never, _ever_ listens to him and how very important and beneficial bunk beds are for children.


End file.
